


A Last Hurrah (a.k.a The Longest Night of Our Lives)

by wanderinginthewoods



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Basically the night of the ruins part II, F/M, Gilbert joins in this time, Long Shot, Moonshine, Pirates, Season 3, Shenanigans, before Queen's, parlour games outdoors, set in 3x10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22718302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinginthewoods/pseuds/wanderinginthewoods
Summary: The graduating students of Avonlea celebrate a final night of freedom before leaving to begun their adult lives at their respective colleges.This is just me missing the energy of the night at the ruins and wanting more! This story takes place a few days before the students find their way to Queen's.UPDATE: blood, swoon and spar
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 41
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of them having one last get together, similar to their bonfire night, before they leave Avonlea and officially grow up.
> 
> A couple of things have been altered--First, Marilla talking to Diana’s parents and them allowing her to finally go to college happens before the students leave, and secondly, Gilbert didn’t promise Winnie he wouldn’t talk about their ending things--honestly, this never made sense to me, who do Gilbert and Winnie have in common anyway? How would him telling Bash or Anne even find it’s way back to her upper class family?
> 
> This is the first time I'm posting something I haven't fully finished yet, and I'm a bit nervous about not being able to edit it to death. This feels like a relatively long one! 
> 
> Mistakes are due to lack of sleep! Happy reading x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Invitations and avoidance

“You have got to come!”

“Moody.”

Gilbert was losing his patience. All he wanted to do was to sit on this rickety, old swing outside his house, on his usually quiet porch, on this balmy summer morning and read his favourite tale of adventure, _Treasure Island_ , whilst decidedly ignoring how much of a fish out of water he felt lately--however a distinctly Moody-Spurgeon shaped shadow was blocking the sunlight and making the task unnecessarily tedious.

Moody sighed loudly.

“Gilbert. Some of us are going to Queen’s, some of us are going to Paris-“ he gave his irritated classmate a pointed look, “-and some of us are staying here. We’ve got to have this last gathering of gatherings, to send us off onto the next step of our lives with wonderful cherish-able and cherish-worthy memories-”

Gilbert raised a neat eyebrow, “those are Ruby’s words aren’t they?”

_At least the fellow’s cheeks have the decency to turn red._

“Uh, well, I-yes. But I agree! I won’t take no for an answer. You have from now until this evening to huff all you want, but I’m seeing you at the lake tonight.”

Gilbert groaned, refusing to look up at Moody.

“Seriously, Gilbert. Do not make me set the girls upon you! They’re little, but you know, uh, vicious-”

“Fierce.” Gilbert corrected, completing Shakespeare’s phrase as the bard himself had intended.

“That too.”

With that, Moody nodded sharply, looking as formidable as he could manage--which, let’s be honest, was very little--and turned around to leave. A small amount of pride crept into him for being able to stand his ground with Gilbert.

That pride dissipated easily when his boot got stuck in a slightly raised nail and he tripped down the white porch steps clumsily, his arms flailing around to find balance.

He righted himself quickly, carefully.

“See you, Moody,” Gilbert called behind him, amusement evident in his voice.

“An hour afore sundown!” He shouted, his back to the boy on the porch, raising a hand above his head in a goodbye.

The melancholy boy sighed-- _would I be romantically miserable enough a suitor for Anne, now, I wonder?_ \--tucking the exciting tale of the seas into the cushion besides him, and raising his feet to rest on the wooden bar in front of him, as he swung slowly. An acceptance letter from the University of Toronto had not yet arrived, leaving his current education status an extremely depressing, and slightly embarrassing, ‘pending’. Everyone thought he was still going to Paris, and he let them. It wasn’t their business anyway. He was, however feeling fairly anxious and exceedingly useless the longer he waited. The last thing he wanted in his jittery state was to see Anne, in all her fiery glory, with her having not responded to his heartfelt written confession of love, and have all his feelings rush up to the surface like a slate to the-

The swing creaked, as if irked by his internal monologue. He had a split-second with which to think, _blast_ , before he found himself unceremoniously dropped onto the hard wooden floor. The top half of his body found itself sprawled on the porch, planks from the broken swing resting underneath his throbbing behind, whilst his legs still hung on the railing in front of him awkwardly. This was exactly the ridiculously graceless state Bash found him in a moment later, propelling the taller man into a fit of hysterics.

Tears glistened the corner of his eyes as he spoke.

“Yah lookin’ mighty cosy down there, Blythe! ‘Dellie and I are the only ones light enough for the porch swing’, huh? I don’t think so--must be all of that sausage n’ honey you’ve been stuffing yourself with of late!”

Gilbert groaned and closed his eyes, unmoving.

“Leave me alone Bash, I am fully prepared to stay on the floor until life gets better.”

He reckoned it was clean enough to live on, especially after all the passive-aggressive cleaning Hazel had been doing since she moved in.

Bash rolled his eyes, knocking his pale brother’s feet off the railing and grabbing his hand.

“Noo..” Gilbert whined softly as he was hauled up effortlessly.

“Don’t be a mook now. You have got the cutest little niece, Blythe, a big house, food on the table, and you’ll get into that university of yours. Patience, boy! Why yah running after life before it comes naturally to you?”

“I know, I know. You’re right.. but I am allowed to sulk once in a while aren’t I?” Gilbert moaned, eyebrows knotted together, leaning forward as he stood with his elbows on the railing.

“Blythe.. you let a beautiful woman go-”

“Oh, thanks!”

“Let me finish. You let her go, you let your dream-college go, because you knew it was the right thing to do. Not just for you, but for her. You can hold your head up high. I’m proud of you, brother. It will all work out, believe that. Be patient.”

A half smile appeared on Gilbert’s face, and he once again thanked God for sending him such an unexpected friend. The thought of Bash, of Mary--of his dad even--being proud of him, lifted his mood slightly.

“Thanks, Bash,” he said, genuinely this time, the two sharing a warm look between them.

“Are you off to the woods tonight then? Will I have to enforce a curfew on you?”

“You listening to my conversations through the window blinds is getting a little creepy.”

Bash laughed, “Go! Have a laugh, drink a little and pine over Queen Anne in front of her--or at least be a man and part ways properly instead of moping in solitude. This may be your last night as a youngster--you’re a ripe apple now, Blythe. Adolescence is over.”

“Ugh. Please, don’t ever describe me as ripe again.” He scrunched his nose in distaste. Sighing, his slow gaze running over the hills in the distance. “I don’t think I’ve been young for many years now.”

“More reason for you to live as much of its freedom as you can, tonight. Now, stop yah groanin’ and haul ass--I came out here to tell you--it’s your turn to sweep the stable,” the darker man grinned, slapping the thin boy on the back before making his way back into their house.

_Of course it is. This bad luck better be coincidental, and not an ill omen for the day ahead._

“Anne, do not stay out too late, do you hear me, child?”

“We won’t! We shall be back well before the crack of dawn!” Anne shouted behind her, walking briskly out the door.

“Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, you better be back well afore then or I’ll have you sleep in the barn. Nothing good ever happens after midnight!”

“Oh, Marilla, I know that to be untrue, for the stars come out in full force after midnight--and they are simply splendid.”

“Anne!”

“Love you, Marilla!”

Her adopted mother’s exasperated cry of her name followed her as she and Diana ran from Green Gables, giggling, a basket of fresh buns swinging between them.

“I do hope we didn’t vex her too much, Anne.”

“Fear not, dear Diana, for that was Marilla’s temperately cross voice,” Anne twirled around to look back at her bosom-friend, her loose, single braid moving with her. “At a temperate state, Marilla is not angry with me, she is simply dismayed at how adventurous I am. Now, if I were to get home past dawn, she may transition into a fully irate Marilla. At this alarming state, Marilla’s cheeks often turn the colour of beetroot and she is ready to ground me away from any future shenanigans--as if I were a princess in a tower! Not even a handsome prince bravely scaling the steep walls of Green Gables could save me from her wrath.”

The girls laughed, grazing their fingers through the long grass, as they walked the pathway towards their destination.

“Speaking of princes-”

“Oh, Diana, I wish you wouldn’t. I haven’t heard from Gilbert-I-only-convey-feelings-with-my-eyebrows-Blythe since our results came out, when he spoke but a single word to me. A-- _single_ \--word! Congratulations! I’ll give you a congratulations, Mr Blythe--right in that handsome, well-proportioned face of yours--how would you like it? Slate? Shove? Pitchfork?-”

“Anne!” Diana gasped, half laughing, half terrified of her friend’s vengeful tone.

“Right you are, friend of my heart, keeper of my sanity--I may have overstated there, but you see how I have moved past love and despair into, well, rage? Congratulations, indeed! And nothing further. Pfft--well apart from that ridiculous letter I had the good sense to scatter at the Snow Queen’s feet-”

“Debatable.”

“Conceded--and if I do happen to see him today-”

“You’ll turn right around and run back to Green Gables?”

“Stop! That was one time! I was caught off guard, he was riding straight towards me. It all happened so fast, needless to say I did not mean to tumble backwards into that bush, thank providence he did not see me--that would have been mortifying, even more so than the letter.. well, maybe not more so, but the same at least--although it is the very existence of the letter that heightens the mortification of all subsequent embarrassments..”

Silence overcame the two as Anne’s sentence trailed off into thought. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down, letting the crisp Avonlea air soothe the angry flame within her, “I resolve to be perfectly civil--I am fairly certain I have it within me. Oh, you are so lucky not to have a temper, Diana--keeping it in check is such a tedious chore. Regardless, I must remember that tonight is about celebrating our departure from adolescence into the next phase of our ever-changing lives. Nothing will ruin these last few hours of us all--Gilbert included--being together. Not even these pesky fluctuating feelings.”

Diana smiled at her friend--so brave through her obvious dismay--and grasped her freckled hand in her own. The red-head squeezed back, blinking her sadness away, as she leant the side of her head onto Diana’s.

“I am so glad your parents agreed to let you follow your heart to Queen’s. I could not bear to part with you, really I could not. I need your sensible advice to brave collage.”

“Just as I need your vivid imagination--and competent storytelling--to get through the rest of my days.”

“I have but one thing to ask of you tonight, Diana--steady with the moonshine! I’m beyond elated that we’re friends this time around, but it did worry me to see you almost trip head first into Tillie’s lap.”

Diana laughed heartily, “As if you are one to speak, Captain Cuthbert! Anyway, what happens in the woods..” she wiggled her eyebrows, in a mock suggestive manner.

“Let’s hope that applies to lakes as well.. We are going to have the best time, I’m convinced of it!”

The sun hung heavily in the sky as the girls neared the Lake of Shining Waters--the boys, little imagination that they had, refused to call it that--the tall trees at the edge of the woods leading up to a relatively flat grassland besides the lake. This fine Avonlea evening, the landscape was a myriad of deep blues, vibrant purples and fiery oranges. The sultry heat of the summer afternoon was dissipating slightly and a wisp of an evening breeze could be felt, combing through the long grass.

Ruby waved at them, all blonde hair and rosy cheeks, from where she was supervising the boys, who were setting up a large woven mat on the floor to sit on. Gilbert was no where to be seen--an observation that Anne refused to acknowledge herself making.

“Anne! Diana!--Moody, do not put that down besides the wet grass! Move it to the side. I will not have us rolling off the sheet onto the wet ground.”

“It’s not near the--uh, very well.” He signaled to Charlie with a nod of his head and they pulled the mat further away from the lake. He knew better than to argue.

Ruby giggled, her Calla Lilly coloured pink dress swaying around her as she skipped over to the girls, as the boys diligently did what they were told.

“Very well done Ruby, I see you are training him already,” Diana nudged her playfully.

“I am not--we are not even courting yet!”

“Moody won’t be any trouble to handle, when does he ever not do what you tell him to? All you’ve got to do is bat those doe eyes at him--that boy is as soft as a new born pup,” Tille remarked as she walked over with Josie and Jane. The girls stood in a huddle, staring at Charlie, Moody and the two Pauls’ who couldn’t seem to agree on the new positioning of the rug, each tugging it towards himself.

“They leave a lot to be desired, don’t they?” Josie said, her nose scrunching.

The girls stared at them a beat longer, as the boys finally put the sheet down and patted each other on the back for a job well done.

Anne rolled her eyes, raising her basket up for everyone to see. "We’ve brought goodies! Marilla made some scrumptious buns this afternoon for us to gobble up."

"Splendid, Anne!" Tillie grabbed the basket as the girls walked through the soft grass to arrange their baskets of eatables on the picnic mat.

“What a lovely dress, Anne!” Ruby gushed, running the light fabric through her fingers.

“Sweet Diana kindly allowed me borrow it,” she said, twirling.

“ _Have_ it," Diana corrected. "Mother insists I get new dresses now that I am officially of age. I must say, it suits your pale complexion much better than mine, dear Anne.”

“Can you believe we have stepped our last into that old school? I can’t even fathom it really!”

“Me neither!”

"And just when the fire burnt it down too! Pardon me, but I've seen that school house since I was six, it was hankering for a redesign," Josie rolled her eyes.

"This is Avonlea, knowing the town as we all do, they'll just build it back exactly the same as before!" Tillie giggled.

A chorus of female voices spoke animatedly, one after the other, discussing the contents of their full-suitcases--specifically their corsets--all ready in preparation for their next great adventure. Adulthood. All the while arranging food that they brought for a light dinner, and picking flowers before the day faded into the night.

A quarter of an hour later they had quieted down and were sitting side by side, staring out across the lake at the sunset, the boys close by setting up a bonfire in the dirt--Moody had a smug smile on his face as he proudly told the other lads how to kindle a fire--their shadows fading into darkness as the sun seemed to recede ever so slowly into the earth. The girls hummed softly, their laps covered in scattered flowers that had been freshly pulled from the ground, their nimble fingers stringing them together to make nature’s crowns, as the succulent smell of sticky summer dew surrounded them.

Anne sighed happily--it was not lost on her how exceptionally magical this moment was.

The sun’s rays shimmered over the water, pulling the colours of the sky down to the earth, their vibrancy increasing as time went on, and enveloped everything they touched in romantic, warm hues. A wreath of local flowers sat lopsided on Anne’s ginger hair, as Diana’s head leaned on her right shoulder. There was something so powerful about being out in nature, on a night so breathtaking as the one they were witnessing, with her classmates; some of whom she loved and couldn’t live without, some she was indifferent to, but all of whom had played a vital part in the last 3 years of her life.

 _Well, almost all of them_.

 _Curse my wondering brain for not being able to enjoy the moment without bringing him into it!_ She had kept her thoughts well away from her soulful-eyed classmate so far, but--just as her mentor-in-love, Aunt Josephine had said--Anne found her thoughts once again straying to him when the world around her was silent. Her heart ached at the thought of him not being here on such a night and she wished him to appear. _Even though,_ she reminded herself, _such wishes are clearly detrimental to my own lovelorn state of mind,_ nevertheless she fancied herself rational enough to see that this night was greater then the both of them.

Gilbert had always been more mature than most of their classmates, partially due to his age, but since becoming an orphan he had almost completely stopped casually spending time with them. To Anne's annoyance, this trend had increased exponentially since the _perfect_ Miss Winifred had appeared in his life. It seemed to her that he was miles ahead of the rest of them, already living his elder years as they struggled though adolescence.

Still, her heart ached all the same.

For she had seen the mirth in his eyes as they banded together to protest against the ministers, and she recognized it. There was a young boy within him who wanted out, she could feel it. She had the same look in her eyes every year of her life before Green Gables--wanting so much to be young, but weighed down with too many burdens and responsibilities to even think of allowing herself to break free from the chains of maturity.

_He should be here tonight. He ought to be carefree with the rest of us, a final time, before the curtain falls on this particular act of our lives._

Anne shook her head. She heard the grass crunch as Moody sat down besides Ruby, plucking a purple flower out of her busy, flower-threading fingers and placing it behind his own ear with a charmingly goofy expression on his face. As the boys joined them on the dry grass, the bonfire starting to roar softly in the background, Moody picked up his ukulele, and a soft jubilant tune wafted into the air.

Anne smiled, her eye catching Diana's. She was going to college with her best friends! Life was too good to be sad about a love that never got to bloom--or a friend that did not allow himself to experience the freedom of youth.

_Right?_

She snapped out of her thoughts, recognizing the tune she was listening to, and started to sing, a smile in her voice.

_“In days of yore, from Britain's shore,_  
_Wolfe, the dauntless hero came”_

Diana giggled and joined along. Soon enough they were all belting out the lyrics obnoxiously.

_“And planted firm Britannia’s flag,_  
_On Canada’s faaaaair domain!”_

The out-of-tune voices sung against the sound of the stringed instrument, as an abundance of stars started to appear ever so lightly in the colours overhead. A figure walked slowly to the edge of the trees, slowing down as the group of ex-students came into view. They didn't notice him, so lost were they in the camaraderie he saw before him. Once, he had been a part of that. What had caused them to drift apart? Had he really just lost touch of himself and pulled away? If he was to be brutally honest with himself, sometimes he liked being separate from the crowd, especially in the pursuit of the intellectual--he didn't think of himself as vain, but it was fact that he was smarter than them, well, most of them--but still, it was never his intention to break apart from his jubilant friends completely.

_Life had just turned out this way._

The years had passed him by and he barely noticed. It seemed to Gilbert that life only slowed down when he was around her. He walked forward, eyes still on the crowd, when he saw she who plagued his thoughts. _Anne_. Flowers delicately placed on her loose braid, mouth open in song, she looked like a fairie princess cometh out of the woods to bring joy to the masses. Her soft light grey dress floated around her. She was mesmerizing.

He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, eyes glued to the girl he wanted reveal all his secrets to more than anything in the world, moving forward towards her, fallen leaves crunching underfoot, sort of in a trance-

_Thwack!_

"Ow! Blast!" Gilbert glared at the low branch he had walked headfirst into. _Heavens, can I not keep my head around a stunning woman?_

He massaged his forehead, where a welt was beginning to form, when he realized the music had stopped. Looking up, he saw multiple curious faces staring at him--his loud exclamation had seen his entire group of friends turn around abruptly to gape at he who dared to interrupt their merry tune. Of course when they saw it was him, their reaction improved incredibly.

"Gilbert!" Moody cried happily, standing up at once, flower still behind his ear, and looking down at Ruby in triumph, "Didn't I say he would come?"

Gilbert's heart leapt as his eyes met with Anne's for an iota of a second, before she raised an eyebrow and then bit her lip and turned away sharply, looking back towards the lake, her back a fraction straighter than it was before he arrived.

Charlie walked up to Gilbert, slapping him on the back and pulling him forward towards the others.

"Glad to see you, Blythe! We were hoping you'd show up.” He pulled the dazed boy forward, forehead still stinging until he sat in their huddled group looking out at the water.

Moody grinned, as his fingers played the notes of The Maple Leaf Forever on his ukulele again. One by one they all chimed in, until the night was full of their laughing voices.

_“Here may it wave, our boast, our pride_  
_And, joined in love together,_  
_The thistle, shamrock, rose entwine,_  
_The Maple Leaf forever!”_

Two voices were a little fainter than the rest, their nerves coming out in full force at being around each other in such a casual manner, constricting their throats.

As the song died down Paul pulled out his customary bottle of sparkling moonshine. No one ever really asked him where he got it from--the truth being they didn’t truly want to know.

Charlie rubbed his hands together. “Well then, lads--and ladies!--of Avonlea, it is time for some unabashed, unapologetic, future nostalgia-instigating merriment."

They all cheered in agreement. Paul held out the bottle to Gilbert, who pursed his lips for a second, his eyes darting to the the redhead near him, but all he could see was the back of a head of luscious fiery hair. He sighed and looked up, past the fading evening colours towards the faint twinkling stars. Rolling his eyes to himself, mostly at how much of a chicken coop his life currently was, he muttered a soft, "Yo-ho-ho", and took a small swing from the bottle. The liquid stung as it made its way down his throat, and the instant placebo worked its magic--he could feel his spirits rising already.

_Pun intended._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naked feet and splashes

  
Anne was glad Gilbert was there. _Of course_ she was. And her current feelings of wanting to fling herself into the Lake of Shining Waters and hide from the world? Positively coincidental and entirely independent of her ex-classmate whatsoever. 

A frown appeared on her face when she annoyingly realized that when she had wished he would arrive, she hadn’t taken into account the twinge she would feel when she saw him, and she certainly could not have guessed the strength of the feeling--reverberating within her, all the way down her spine to the tips of her toes. She kept her gaze off him and stared straight into the lake instead, as the last vestiges of the radiant sky began to fade. 

_Never mind Gilbert. I shan’t allow him or his impossibly defined cheekbones even a crumb of space in my head, it is far too full of fantastical books anyway. He who discards my feelings so callously is of no consequence to me. Hmph._

The strong drink had made its way around the group, each member taking a sip or two, and Anne felt a comfortably light, dizzy tickle blossoming in her head. She leant back, staring at the perfect multicoloured sky slowly lose its bright colours, taking in the tiny stars appearing far above her, and the sound of the wind shuffling through the long grass that surrounded the lake.

_I will not ruin this magically magic evening for myself! This is about all of us, and I, Anne Shirley Cuthbert am going to have a jolly good time--or I shall fall over trying!  
_

Giggling, with a newfound determination to enjoy the night, she stared around the lake lazily, her eyes drawn to a midnight-blue dragonfly dipping in and out of the surface of the water. 

Her eyes twinkled as she begun to untie her boots with a large grin on her face. 

"Anne..?" 

"Diana, listen carefully--can you not hear the lake calling our names? We must abide her cry!" she wiggled her toes free and pulled up her bosom friend, ignoring the stare of a _certain someone_ at her back. A couple of skips and she had reached the shallow part of the lake--where flat pebbles lined the bottom--holding in a squeal as the cool water first lapped at her toes. Anne inhaled deeply and turned around, waving to Diana who was running over, Ruby in tow, fumbling with her stockings, with Moody not far behind, hopping to remove his boots.

They all soon had their naked feet stomping about in the lake, trousers folded up to the knees and dresses scrunched up in hand. They painted quite a picture against the vastness of the lake and the country landscape--evening colours painting the sky behind them, long, flimsy grass framing the scene, bodies vibrating with midsummer energy.

A moment that, if frozen, would be the perfect subject of a poem.

Anne wondered if she would look back at this moment, years from now, and let the waves of nostalgia take her back to this night. Her mind wandered to a Scottish poem she had been reading--to get to know her Caledonian roots--and she smiled as the words washed over her. She wished to learn the language one day, it sounded much more romantical as it was originally intended.

_We twa hae paidl’d i’ the burn,_  
_Frae mornin’ sun till dine;_

_/ We two have paddled in the stream,_  
_/ From morning sun till dine;_

She looked at the boy across from her.

_But seas between us braid hae roar’d  
Sin auld lang syne_

_/ But seas between us broad have roared_  
_/ Since old long since_

Gilbert stood next to Charlie with his back towards the girls, trying to convince himself that he was not avoiding Anne. He felt the distance between her and himself--such a stark contrast to the weeks that had come previously--and it was painful to think this would be their final adventure in Avonlea together. _Maybe Bash was on to something,_ he thought, daring to turn around slightly to take a look at the redhead, the tip of her braid wet from leaning over to pick up some pebbles-- _maybe we should part at least as friends._

He longed to talk with her about medical school, to indulge her in meaningless conversations about their horses, to listen to her listing her favourite types of trees. Part of him wanted to run over to her, shake her by the shoulders and beg her to talk to him. _I suspect that wouldn't go down well._

As the girls talked and giggled he saw Anne's azure eyes dart around near her feet, before she suddenly reached a hand down, an immediate burst of a laugh leaving her. When she had straightened again, she was holding a small green frog in her cupped hand. 

The corner of Gilbert’s lips turned upwards, a small dimpled smile appearing on his face. He was in awe of how utterly _connected_ Anne was to her surroundings. Diana laughed, as Jane scrunched her nose and Ruby squeaked in surprise. 

"Look how curious he looks! Don't you, Sir Leaps-a-lot? I quite like your green coat, it is exceedingly smart. Have you been enjoying the sunset too, sir?" 

The frog ribbited, hopping up Anne's wrist. 

"Anne! Good heavens, must you befriend all of nature's critters? Can you not leave the ugly ones alone?" Josie grumbled, rolling her eyes. 

Gilbert figured that the frog must've heard her--and Josie would later swear herself that it stared her down after she spoke--for it seemed to look her way, pause and then hop in her direction. Unfortunately for her, Sir Leaps-a-lot was true to his name, and another jump saw him landing straight on her head causing her to scream loudly, arms flailing in the air as she pulled at her hair. 

"Get it off me!" 

It's work done and chaos caused, the frog calmly jumped away, leaving Josie and her hair a colossal mess, and everyone else in stitches. 

"I'm so sorry, Josie!" Anne gasped in between her laughter. 

"That poor frog probably just wanted you to let your hair down!" 

"It does look slightly improved-" 

Josie glared, "Charlie Sloane! You are one wisecrack away from being dreadfully drowned in this lake!" 

"That's right, Charlie, get out of Josie's hair, it has had enough in it already," Paul smirked. 

At that, Josie squealed in anger, and stomping up to the boys she hurled a large amount of water on him. Of course, Josie wobbled a little, effectively missing Paul, and wetting Moody instead. Moody, in turn, took his revenge, only to have Josie run out of reach. Everyone roared with laughter. Even the woman herself, as upset as she was, couldn't stop a giggle escaping her as she sprinted away from the boys. Unfortunately for Gilbert, Moody wasn't known for his throwing aim, or kicking aim, or really any sort of target practice which is why he should have seen the wet assault coming--but he did not. A loud yelp caught everyone's attention as the substantial pour made its steady way down his neck. 

The doctor-to-be half-jumped, half-whirled around, and begun to race towards the boy who splashed him. 

"This means war, Moody Spurgeon! Prepare to face your aquatic end!" 

"What? No--I was--Josie!" 

The tall boy sputtered incoherently, running to find refuge in the company of the laughing girls, flailing as he hid behind Ruby and crouched slightly, grabbing her by the shoulders and using her as a human shield. 

"Save me, golden haired princess!" 

The blonde squealed as he maneuvered her around, her face blushing red.

Gilbert's toned legs ran after Moody and came to an abrupt stop in front of them. Anne felt droplets from his splashing feet hit her bare legs and she watched as his eyes flew up to meet hers--he seemed to forget about his prey for a long, slow second--and for the first time that night, the two presently in love, former classmates looked each other over properly, their smiles faltering momentarily as they both tried to curb their nervousness. 

As earthy hazel eyes met ocean blue ones, Anne refused to be the first to look away. His eyebrows were raised slightly, as if asking a hint of a question. _Do not let him win, Anne!_ She berated herself. _And certainly under no circumstances should you glance at the water droplets dripping off his curls, down his now-translucent collar, and further down his back.._ She forced her eyes back into to his. Who did he think he was, anyway? Barely talking to her and then staring at her like that? 

Like, like.. he didn't want her to stop looking at him.

That was only part of what the boy in front of her was thinking. His eyes roamed over her stained cheeks, flushed from laughing so much, her coppery hair tinted burgundy in the dusky light. She was dressed in a wispy light grey thing, making her eyes look brighter and larger than usual as they stated back at him. In the dim light of the fading sun, she looked more vibrant than ever. _Breathe._

"Using your woman as protection, Moody? Be a man!" 

Charlie's mocking caused Gilbert to blink and when he looked back at Anne, he found her turned to the couple besides her--smile reappearing on her face.

Gilbert moved fast, swiping Moody's hat off his head, cupping as much water as he could into it and then lunged at the tall boy, who gave out an unnaturally high shriek, let go of Ruby's arms, and was promptly doused with water. 

"Gilbert--hey! Et tu Ruby?! "

His beloved had turned around, an impish grin on her face as she participated in splashing him. Diana and Anne shared a look, and not a moment later they had all teamed up, showering Moody with lake water hurled from all directions by their hands and feet. 

"Oh, I get it, it's pile on Moody day!" he complained, trying to fight the onslaught. 

Soon everyone was doubled up and poor Moody was absolutely drenched. 

"That's it!" the soaking boy exclaimed, raising his arms and clumsily stomping out of the lake, straight into the bushes. 

"Do you think we broke him?" Gilbert wondered, as they all stood around, slightly wet themselves, unsure of what to do now that the excitement was over. Anne realized how she had unconsciously ended up close to Gilbert, as if they gravitated towards each other, and she shuffled away slightly--as inconspicuously as possible.

"Nah, he's used to it."

"Maybe we should all be a little nicer to dear Moody-" 

"Ruby, don't be a stick in the mud." 

"Josie! You know very well that I would willingly go nowhere near mud!" the blonde gasped, still craning her neck trying to see where her future-Beau had gotten to. 

The squelching sound of wet feet could be heard in the distance, and they turned to see a seemingly Moody shaped figure running towards the lake at full speed. 

"Heavens! He's stripped down to his undergarments--Ruby, look away!" Tillie teased. 

"Moody!" Ruby squeaked, her sweet voice unusually high as the alcohol--amongst other things--made her head spin.

The fairly-unclothed boy ran right past the group of giggling females, splashing about as he went, and with a loud, "Weeeeeee!" he dove head first into the deeper part of the lake. 

The jubilant boy resurfaced a few seconds later, further away, "Come on in, lads! That water is perfect!" 

They did not have to be told twice, running back to the bank and beginning to undress away from preying eyes. Minutes later they were all swimming out towards their floating friend, in nothing but their undershirts and underpants. 

Ruby gasped, her face looking quite like prize-winning tomato, and promptly whirled around to face the bonfire in the distance. The girls giggled, hands over their faces. All except one that is. 

"How is it fair that they can just shed off their clothes and swim and we have to stand by the bank, skirts in hand?" She huffed, letting go of her hem in a small stance of protest and allowing her dress to get wet.

"Well, they're.. They don't.. They-they're men." Ruby concluded, her back still to the boys. 

"Bother the men!" she huffed stomping her foot in the water, the pebbles smooth beneath her toes. 

“Anne!” The sensitive blonde gasped.

"You, Anne, are welcome to strip and jump in," Jane smirked. 

"I would, if I didn't have poor Marilla for think about. Mrs Lynde has ears everywhere, there's not a fox that walks in the woods that she doesn't know about!" 

“Oh Ruby, do turn around, they’re all waist deep in the water, there’s nothing to see,” Jane rolled her eyes.

“You are not going to get pregnant from looking at them, trust me, I'm observing them diligently.” Tillie wiggled her eyebrows, tugging her friend around in vain.

“I know that!” Ruby exclaimed, still refusing to turn her back.

“Remember how scraggy they used to be? Not anymore!” Jane giggled, taking a long appreciative glance at the boys in the distance.

“Rugged farmer’s physiques,” Tillie chimed in wiggling her eyebrows, her green summer dress ruffling around her becomingly. 

“Ugh, Billy has irreversibly put me off Avonlea boys. I will settle for nothing less than a handsome college man that treats me right,” Josie’s eyes twinkled in longing.

“Not me, I need a brawny fellow, with muscular arms. Those posh boys are far too lean and fussy for me!”

“Tillie! Shocking!"

"Look at us, ending school with only one pairing! Ruby and Moody, who would have guessed it? Still, it is scandalously progressive of us!" Jane noticed. 

"We're on the cusp of a new century after all!" 

"Hear the call of powerful 20th century women, world!" Anne yelled, and wrapped her arms around Josie and Diana's waists.

"Powerful 20th century women!" the girls repeated loudly towards the sky, the young boys collectively turning their heads towards them, and then back at each other, before shrugging. 

"Does that mean you've given up on Charlie, Anne?" 

A ridiculous chuckle escaped Anne as she wondered what her friends would think if she told them of her real feelings. And to whom they are directed.

"It would be an exceptionally strong and patient woman who would manage to be with Charlie after being told her passions make her barren! Alas, I am not that tenacious."

“I cannot believe we are finally here,” Diana sighed, the petals of her flower crown ruffling in the light breeze. 

“Where?”

“Adulthood, Jane! Finally able to soar like birds away from our parent's ever watching gazes. I wonder how it will change us..”

Anne hummed in agreement, “I for one am both deeply terrified and energetically excited.” Grabbing Ruby’s hands, she turned the tall girl around, twirling them both in the water.

“I’m just glad I am embarking on this journey with you wonderful beings,” the blonde girl said emotionally, still twirling with Anne, their feet splashing in the water, hems getting wet.

“Incooooming!”

Charlie’s voice rang through the open clearing, and the girls saw the boys swim, and then run to the bank. Ruby smacked her hand over her eyes again as they ran by.

“We’re off to get dressed and warm,” Moody grinned at what little of Ruby’s red face he could see under her hand, and lightly tugged her carnation-pink sleeve as he passed by.

Tillie, having no problem with shyness, received winks from both Pauls as usual and was all too happy to wink back. The girls shared look with each other, eyebrows raised, as the boys’ silhouettes faded into the trees. 

“Time for some light supper, I think. Come, let’s warm the buns and some butter,” Jane clapped her hands and led the girls off to the bonfire.

Anne, meanwhile, had resolved not to look at her well-defined, sinewy ex-classmate--also her ex-friend and, if she had her way, soon to be ex-first love--as he sprinted by her, but it was awfully difficult. As a result, she stood in place for a few minutes, picking imaginary lint off Diana's dress--in reality, Diana's dresses were too perfect to have defects such as lint--her mind foggy with the image of his curly hair in a wet heap on his head, water glistening on his arms-- _the arms of an apple farmer.. that’s quite enough of that, brain!_ She groaned internally, frustrated with herself.

In a daze, she followed Diana out of the water--

_Eeek!_

A scream sounded in the quiet sky.

_What was that? Someone let out a shriek!_

_Oh, it was me._

Anne looked around to find herself in a heap on the side of the bank, hand clutched over her left leg, scarlet blood making its way through her fingers. 

“Anne! Oh lord Anne, wait here!” 

Diana had shout off up the bank to the bonfire before Anne could even nod, her head a little fuzzy with spirit and a throbbing pain above her ankle.

She groaned loudly, almost burying her face in her hands--until she remembered the blood--as she heard Diana's shout for Gilbert ring across the bank. 

_Woe is me--surrounded by such unfortunate mischance!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, swoon and spar

Anne managed to move away from the sloped side of the lake--in quite an unladylike manner, it must be said--dragging herself backwards with her arms, careful to keep her derrière off the ground in the hopes of not ruining another dress-- _if only women could wear trousers!_ \--moving as fast as she could so as not to be caught crawling around-- _by Gilbert Blythe of all people_ \--and was now sitting on the somewhat dry grass not too far from the edge.

Anne had seen a lot of blood in her time, and she fancied herself having a high tolerance for pain, but somehow the sight of her own blood always made her lightheaded.

She mumbled to herself while her hands fussed around with her dress, “It’s just a scratch. Just a tiny scratch. You are strong and brave--like the nimble White Spruce. What a heroic tree, surviving in all manners of harsh weather and ailments.. Spruce, Anne. Think like a spruce. Marilla would think I'm mad, _'tree's do not have thoughts, Anne!'_ , but to that I'd say--who's to say?”

After muttering to herself for half a minute, she found herself closing her eyes and channeling the spruce for another minute, at the end of which she decided she was determined to help herself so that _he_ wouldn’t have to. He was going to Paris, and she would have to deal with her scrapes, whether they be medical or political, on her own--that was the end of it.

Taking a deep breath, she peered down. There on her left calf, above her ankle was an angry gash the size of her entire thumb.

Her head swooned, more than usual, the sight of blood elevating her slight tipsiness. However, she noticed it was not too deep, and deduced that it would close up in no time.

“Seems all right to me,” she murmured, nodding to herself--her own validation all she needed to push her body off the ground.

“No, you don’t.”

A large, warm hand clamped itself around her arm carefully, and the quiet, velvety voice of one Gilbert Blythe spoke firmly in her ear, sending a tingle down her spine. He gently pushed her back down onto the grass, and moved to kneel in front of her naked feet.

Gilbert had been getting dressed with the lads when Diana ran into the woods, yelling for him. The moment he head Anne's name fall from her lips, he knew she had hurt herself, and before Diana could finish her sentence, he was already sprinting towards the lake. Of course, he had been met by the sight of Anne-- _strong, silly Anne_ \--standing up, as if she wasn't hurt.

A spark ran up this arm as he held her own. When was the last time they had touched? An uncomfortable handshake and an even worse conversation.. He regretted not saying more to her that day.

“May I take a look?” his hand hovered above her leg, and he ducked down to peer closely at her face when she refused to meet his eyes. He studied her, red tendrils falling out of her loose braid and softly framing her freckled face--the constellations on her skin softening as she grew older--a varicoloured flower crown placed atop her head--which, he noticed, was held up high, even at this very moment.

She could feel the heat from his hand fizzing through the air over her dress. Gaze resolutely focused off him, Anne pulled the damp hem lower, making sure the wound was hidden.

“Oh no, it's nothing, really." The red-head let out a chuckle to convey her ease, but it sounded unnatural, even to her ears. "I require no assistance. I have helped you out and self-diagnosed, _Doctor_ Blythe, and you'll be glad to know that it is just a barely-noticeable cut from a minuscule pebble that happened to graze my foot, slightly, as I exited the lake. There was no need for Diana to call you. Let's not fuss! Oh, I hear some warm buttery goodness c-calling my-I-uh-I-”

 _Oh_.

Anne Shirley Cuthbert, who undoubtedly knew better, had made the very amateur mistake of looking up. A split-second passed. Peering Intently into her face-- _does he have to sit so close to me? Propriety sir!_ \--were the warm hazel eyes of the young man she had written her first and only love letter to--but for once it was not his eyes that were causing her speechlessness. No siree. Right in her line of vision was the very tanned, very exposed--still drying from the lake--chest of a decidedly well built, half dressed farm boy. Clearly, said farm boy had been in the middle of wearing his shirt when Diana--her dear bosom friend, who may not retain the title for much longer--interrupted him, and saw him flee to the lake to check on her-- _as he would for any ailing soul_ \--and of course there was no conceivable way for him to button up his shirt before then. _Of course._ The universe wouldn't have been able to torture her thusly if there had been.

Anne swallowed. There delicious fuzziness in her head seemed to be growing, along with her tongue, which felt far too big for her mouth.

In fact, she was vaguely worried she had a concussion because there was a distinct lack of words consisting of more than two syllables in her thoughts. _Can someone get a concussion from a foot injury?_ She supposed so, because that was the only explanation for her behavior--and who was she to question the wonderfully weird inner workings of her body?

She almost groaned out loud. She could have gone her whole life without seeing Gilbert Blythe half-dressed and she would have been better for it. How was she supposed to forget she was in love with him when he insisted on tending to her ailments, barely clothed and practically glowing in the dim firelight? Meanwhile, here she was, flopped over on the grass in front of the impressively lean body of the young man she was in love with--mute and bleeding from the foot.

_Could some divine revelation explain why it is that everything that could possibly go wrong, does?_

A soft hand nudged her shoulder.

"Spruce!" she exclaimed unthinkingly. She bit her lip, colouring in embarrassment when she heard herself.

Amused eyes stared at her. “The tree? Anne-Anne, you seem rather dazed, I just want to help you-”

That snapped her out right out of her ridiculous, hormonal stupor. She blinked, and tearing her eyes away from the expanse of chest in front of her, she forced them up to his-- _they always look so caring_ \--and pulled her shoulder back from him.

Only one thought ran though her head, _I cannot, under any conceivable conditions, let him look after me._

“Gilbert, pay attention: I am fine.” Anne snapped, enunciating the end of her sentence obnoxiously. She had to get away from him and his unbidden nakedness.

The young man's eyebrows knotted together at her sharp tone, flickering down to her blood-stained fingers on the grass, muscles in his chest flexing reflexively in time with his jaw _._

Anne's internal battle continued, as she tried to put a mature, non-swooning expression on her face. _Look away this instant!_ Her eyes caught a creature flying in the distance. _Oh, there, a ruby-throated hummingbird, how marvelous.. Hmm. Gilbert has an impressive throat himself--ugh, no!_

Gilbert's voice remained soft but firm when he responded. "I am aware you don't require any external help to deal with _any_ of your problems, Anne.. I recall you can fend for yourself. And I shan't-shan't look under your dress without permission-", he swallowed thickly as they both momentarily stilled at the words he blurted out. He definitely blamed the drink for that one. He took a deep breath, "But-but _you know_ I'm not going to let you up without being certain you are as injury-free as you claim. So unless you want to be stuck here, with me, on the bank, all glorious night long--and let the Pauls’ eat all the _buttery goodness_ \--I suggest you permit me to take a look.”

“And _you know_ I will not let you, because I am fine." she lifted her foot off the ground experimentally, rotating her ankle and wiggling her toes to show him how fine she was. "There you go, see? It wiggles and everything. What else must I do to convince you? Hop? Dance a jig mayhap? I shall take my leave now. Thank you, but I do not need your help.” she waited for him to move back out of her personal space in order for her to get up. When he didn’t, she raised her eyebrows up at him expectantly.

Instead, his nose flared at her words, and he leaned in a fraction, still kneeling. “So you keep saying--goodness, Anne! Do you have to be so damn obstinate?”

Anne gaped at exasperated boy in mortification, and before she could think about her actions--much like Marilla always told her to--she had lifted her wounded foot and kicked him straight on his side, avoiding contact with the bloody part of her leg.

“Gilbert Blythe, you take that back, you unmitigated savage-”

By this point he had grabbed a hold of the limb that was assaulting him, and as his fingers slid up, following the shape of her leg of their own violation, they met warm liquid.

“Oh, I'm the savage--Anne, you’re bleeding!” He exclaimed, and then--clearly deciding that he had had enough of her protests--propped her foot on his thigh and pushed up her light dress to take a look at the wound. His cheeks coloured momentarily, before his Gilbert-the-doctor-to-be persona appeared and got to work.

The trail of blood dripping down her leg, in stark contrast to her pale skin, stilled her into compliance.

"Only slightly."

"Oh, I agree, especially if the synonyms for 'slight' include 'considerable', 'abundant' and 'colossal'."

Anne huffed, refusing to be baited by his exaggerations.

“Weren't you to ask for permission?” She tapped her fingers against the grass as he inspected the gash, nimble fingers prodding the area, sending sparks up her leg that she definitely did not ask for.

“Changed my mind.”

"Hmph.” The expelled air from her lips pushed her hair away from her face. “It looks worse than it is.”

A heavy silence hung in the air as Gilbert took his time to respond. When he did, it was as silent and as fleeting a sound as the light summer breeze.

“ _That_ is exactly what Mary said.”

To Anne, it was as clear as the Avonlea school bell. Her movements seized, his words effectively rendering her temporarily paralyzed. With all the emotional distance between them, she was at a loss as to what she should say. Instead, she slowly submitted to the light touch of his hands, and held her dress up to make his task easier for him.

He noticed--secretly grateful for her surrender of sorts.

She scrunched her freckled nose at the blood and was glad when he reaffirmed her belief that no stitches were needed. Still, the wound was bleeding heavily and would need to be bound. The first order of business was to wash the cut. Anne scuffled forward and did so, refusing his help, while he hovered around her, ready to enforce it upon her if she needed it.

Anne then, protest-free, sat back with Gilbert, telling him without words that she trusted him. Anne could feel him looking at her intensely, his eyes focused on her pale face, drinking in her features. She almost asked him what he was staring at, when, all of a sudden, he was in her space, closer than before, his body inches away from her own, her view of the lake hidden entirely by his chest as the heat from his person made her warm. She couldn’t see his face as he reached up and lightly touched her hair with his fingers. Her nose took in his musty apple-bark smell and she almost closed her eyes and leaned forward to breathe in. Not a moment later he had sat back, a vibrant flower in his grasp as he looked at her triumphantly.

Anne raised her eyebrows, confused, a hand reaching up to the flower she had forgotten was there, "Did you just steal a blossom from my crown?"

"Normally, I wouldn't dare steal from a forest nymph, least of all the queen. However--do you know what this is?" he grinned, waving the flower in her face--leaving her no chance to react to his comment, except wonder fleetingly if it was a compliment--all the while giving off infuriating smart-boy vibes.

"It's a cone flower. Are you feeling alright?” she gave him a strange look, brushing the plant away as it touched her cheek in passing.

"The Indians call it _Ichahpe hu_.. It's a healing flower." The excitement in his voice was infectious, and his eyes shone with intelligence. Knowing she would want more information, he carried on, "I went to the Mi'kmaq village and learnt a few elementary cures from the kind healing woman. This was one of them.. They use it when there is no honey available."

Anne's heart swelled with pride at his unquestionable acceptance of the Mi'kmaq people. All she wanted was to wrap herself around him in a tight hug.

“What are you-” her voice drifted away as she saw him crush its petals between his fingers, and then press the sodden flower on to her open wound. It stung a little, but the soothing, albeit slight, movement of his thumb on her calf prevented her from jumping. He finally pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently wrapped it around her leg, holding the healing powers of the lilac blossom in place, his hands surprisingly soft and careful as he tended to her. She knew she had been right--he _would_ be a wonderful doctor. He was meant for nothing else.

His face deep in concentration, curls awry from the night’s activities, he furrowed his brows as he tied the knot, trying not to think about how incredibly slight Anne’s foot was in his hands, and how soft her skin was compared to his. Part of him knew that the chances of infection from the clean pebbles was low--but he said an urgent prayer in his heart for her anyway.

“The flower’s natural chemicals protect against _bacterium_ , which seem to cause infections--or so I understand from the reading I have been doing. I-I don't know too much yet.” His eyes darted around. The hand that was done bandaging her scratched the back of his head in a nervous habit.

Anne managed to stop a smile from taking over her face, but she couldn't stop the admiring look in her eyes as he talked so capably about medicine. She was almost jealous. Here was a young man, a farmer’s son, who knew what he wanted, and was ready to work as hard as he needed to, to overcome his struggles and unprivileged birth--in only society’s sense of the word--and help people through experimental medicine. She knew he would succeed. She believed it.

Unfortunately for Gilbert, he did not notice her admiration.

Anne continued to watch him silently, feeling a sudden overwhelming pain in her as she thought of how they would be separated as they went forward in their lives. She would be in Charlottetown and he..he would be in Paris, or in other exotic cities of the world, vagabonding, seeking knowledge, creating a life with Winifred, and they would probably only see each other once every few years. Her heart ached, head felt woozy and her eyes grew teary.

Anne felt a strong, overwhelming emotion boil within her.

Gilbert squeezed her leg lightly, knowing he should pull away, unable to move his fingers off her, unable to stop trying to comfort her, and yet wanting to do so much more. Nevertheless, he felt a small incandescent spark of happiness lit within him at the thought of them being friends again. They had shared a couple of uncomfortable weeks since the exams, but he finally felt like they were getting back on track. The thought of never talking to her again, of forever being strangers, was too hard to bear.

He smiled at her hesitantly, and all of a sudden, he saw her cool, blue eyes darken a smidgen, and in an instant, she had snatched her foot away from his oh-so-tingly hands and hastily stood up, brushing grass of her dress.

Diana, who had been watching from afar, sneakily giving the couple their space, ran over as she saw Anne jump up--ready to do her best friendly duties. “Anne! Are you okay? I was so worried!”

“I’m fine. Hold on, Diana, it wouldn’t do for me to go anywhere until _Doctor Blythe_ here has permitted me to. Gilbert, now that you have satisfied yourself playing the hero of the people, unnecessarily mind you--oh, how honoured I am to be an experimental subject in your testing of the cone flower's medicinal properties, I do hope it proves successful, for I do not want my leg to fall off, but more importantly, a positive prognosis will provide you with extra points when you rely the story to your fellow intellectuals at the Sorbonne--am I allowed to return to my friends? Or would you also like the carry me to the bonfire? God forbid frail, orphan Anne is left to walk on her own.”

The curly-haired boy’s posture grew rigid as he glared at her, hurt, “You needed medical care, Anne."

The woman in question knew she was being unnecessarily aggravating, but her desire to defend herself had unintentionally called upon her temper, and it was not to be stopped so easily.

“Must you always know what’s best for everybody? Ah, the scholarly, perspicacious Gilbert Blythe. God’s gift to Avonlea, nay, all of PEI. Healing others to quench an emptiness that can't be filled. It was just a scrape! I get them quite frequently! Correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t see you running over to Green Gables every time I trip on a branch. You cannot just decide to interact with me on a whim. I do not need your help anymore. Would you kindly just leave me be?” Anne's voice had risen to exclamation point, and her chest heaved.

A moment of silence passed, the air between the two thick and dense.

Gilbert's eyes turned to stone at her words and his jaw clenched. His stare up at her was unwavering and intense for a millisecond, and then he stood up, brushed past her and walked away. Anne stood motionless, stagnant like the river in the dark, aware she had crossed the line, but unable to apologise.

“Anne? What has gotten into you?” Her bosom friend gasped, wrapping her hand around her arm.

She opened her mouth to reply, when she heard the grass crunch behind her. She turned around as fiery hazel eyes bore down into hers, a sweltering warmth emitting from his chest to hers. Behind him the stars glistened and looked down on her, as if they were supporting him, pushing him forward. His voice was deathly quiet when he spoke.

“Answer me this, why is it that you so readily take help from others and yet it kills you to take it from me? What have I done that is so abhorrent? I have always seen you as my equal, Anne, but I wonder you don't see it that way. You would compete with me, _dance_ with me, but it seems the sky would fall before you would ever see me as kindred-” His gaze raked down her face and back up to meet her own. "I thought, after everything.." He stared at her eyes, intently, as they mirrored his anguish. His lips parted then, slightly, as if he wanted to say more, and Anne waited, her breath hitching.

Silence.

He shook his head--as if disappointed in himself, in her--and swung around and walked away, the two sides of his shirt flapping besides him, leaving the girls to stare at his retreating back in mute shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A N G S TTTT!  
> Finally got dialogue done between these two. I don't usually write angst, but I wanted this fic to be more tumultuous, and really give them something to sort out. However they are teenagers, so let's see how well they deal with that.. let me know what you all think 🌿
> 
> All errors are due to the fact that it is currently very late into the night x

**Author's Note:**

> Still hoping for season 4 🙌🏽🙌🏽  
> Comments (and criticisms) are the best thing ever and feed our parched author's souls.  
> Have a great day, kindred spirits x
> 
> #renewannewithane


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